We Get By
by maroshino
Summary: The two Winchester boys are left to babysit four-year old Alice, a girl who just lost her mother in a horrific incident. Will the three be able to set aside the situation that they're in and become friends? Young!Sam & Tween!Dean.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **This is my very first fanfiction. Please let me know what you think and if you find any mistakes; I apologize for any errors in advance! Thanks for reading! c:

"Sammy, it's time to go to bed."

Sam Winchester left his eyes glued to the TV, ignoring his older brother.

"Sam. Bed." Dean repeated.

"But Dean, Batman just came on." Sam whined. He turned his head and faced his brother, with his lower lip curled.

"Dad'll get pissed if he knows how late you stay up these days. Come on, just go to bed." Dean said, reaching for the TV remote. Sam tried to swipe it away, but Dean grabbed his brother in a head lock and easily pried it from his hands. Getting up in defeat, Sam rubbed his neck and walked sulkily towards the uncomfortable hotel bed he had been forced to sleep on for the past few nights.

"Dad won't find out if you don't tell him." He mumbled, while tugging the sheets loose from the maid's intricate folds. Dean merely shrugged, and plopped down on the couch, propping his feet up on the opposite armrest on which his head now lay. Sam crawled underneath the covers, and pulled them up to his chin. "Speaking of Dad... when is he getting back?"

Dean sighed and frowned, for he had heard this question so many times before.

"I don't know, Sammy. He'll be back when he's back."

"Is he hunting something dangerous this time?" Sam asked, positioning himself so that he was sitting on his bed once more.

"Maybe." He replied, in a cold tone, to hide his true emotions.

"What is it?" Sam asked, crawling to the edge of his bed to get closer to his brother.

"None of your business." Dean said nonchalantly, staring at the TV screen with a blank expression.

Sam frowned and got off the rusty coloured bed, and walked up to the couch. He pressed his hands onto the rough, worn texture of the back, and asked his brother again. Dean coughed with discomfort, and flipped through channels to look as if he could care less.

"The thing that killed mom." He finally said, his voice almost giving in. Quickly, he retook is careless air and added, "Now get your ass in bed, Sam."

Before Sam could protest, the motel room's door swung open with a loud bang. The two brothers jumped up in surprise, gaping at the figure now standing in the doorway. Drenched, John Winchester stepped inside, closing off the stormy night behind him. The small shivering girl in his arms clung tightly to his neck, and had her face buried in his chest.

"Hey, boys." He said, in his husky voice. He took one more step forward, the squish of his wet boot making an awkward noise against the fake textile floor.

Dean stared at the little figure in awe, opening his mouth, only to have a small 'what?' to escape his lips.

"Dean, I don't really have time to explain things now, but I will later." John said, taking a few steps so that he was standing in front of his son, who was now kneeling awkwardly on the couch. Dean quickly hopped off, and stood before his father.

"This is Alice. You take care of her while I'm gone. Like you take care of Sammy. Do not let her out of your sight." He listed strictly, like a drill sergeant. Dean wanted to ask questions, but bit his tongue. John slowly lowered the girl to the ground, taking hold of her hand. Alice kept her head down.

"Alice, this is my son, Dean. He's going to take care of you. Trust him like you trusted me." John said in a soft tone, taking on his father side. Dean pressed his lips tightly together. His father rarely used that tone with him anymore. He so badly wanted to know who this girl was, and why he suddenly had to take care of her. It seemed hardly fair, but he knew better than to complain with his father.

Pushing a lock of his hair out of his eyes, John caressed Alice's head with one hand, and then let go of her. Dean took a step forward, but faltered.

"I'll be back soon, Dean. Just take care of her for now." John said, giving his son one last piercing look before immerging himself back into the pouring rain.

The sound of water dripping off of Alice's hair was the only thing audible for the next few minutes. The children stood in silence, Sam staring at Dean, Dean staring at the new comer, and Alice staring at the floor. Needing to break the silence, Dean spoke first.

"Your name's... Alice?"

The girl didn't respond.

"That's... a nice name." He continued. The girl still did not move, nor did she express any signs of acknowledgement that she was being talked to.

Dean blinked, trying to come up with something else to say. _You take care of her while I'm gone._

"Where's your mommy, Alice?" Dean asked, doubting he'd get a reply, but trying anyway.

The girl's shoulders tensed, her fists clenching and unclenching. After a long pause of silence, she lifted her head for the first time. Dean stepped back and gasped in surprise.

Mostly covered in blood, Alice's face had a twist of sadness and shock. One eye ceased to open, for blood had caked over her eyelid and made it difficult for her eyelashes to separate from one other. Strands of her chocolate brown hair stuck to her round cheeks, and her small rosy lips quivered, finally whispering out her answer.

"_Dead._"


	2. Chapter 2

Dean gulped, and stared at little Alice. Both gazed into each other's eyes, trying to uncover what lay behind the other's stare. They stood this way for what seemed like an eternity for the two, until Sam nudged Dean on the side and whispered in his ear.

"You think the thing that killed our mom killed hers too?"

Dean's back jolted straight, and he turned to face Sam. With a moment's hesitation, although he was quite sure, he nodded. Sam's forehead creased with sadness, and he looked over at Alice. He walked up to her, and crouched down a little, since she was quite small.

"We know how you feel, Alice. Our mommy is dead too." Sam said softly, still with a pain stricken look on his face.

"Sammy." Dean warned, frowning at his brother.

"What?" Sam asked, turning around. "She deserves to know. She shouldn't have to suffer alone."

Biting his lip in response, Dean crossed his arms and mumbled something incomprehensible. Sam returned his gaze towards Alice, and gave her a small smile.

"You can trust my brother and me, though. My brother's a good guy. He'll make sure you're okay." Sam said, turning back to show his brother his smile. "We both will."

Alice stared at Sam, her facial expressions unchanging. Her right eye twitched, and her left blinked innocently, waiting for what was next.

"Dean, I think we should wash her. Her face is covered in a lot of... blood."

"K-kay." Dean mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll... get her some fresh clothes to change in. Bring her into the bathroom wash her dress in the tub." He walked to the edge of his bed, reached underneath and pulled out his duffle bag, with his small collection of belongings inside. Zipping open the bag, he rummaged through the mess, trying to find something appropriate. Pulling out a pair of his jeans, he surveyed them with his arms outstretched, and then quickly shook his head, murmuring, "Way too big." Throwing them back into the bag, he searched some more, until he pulled out a pair of his boxers. He grimaced, but agreed that they'd probably fit her better than anything else he owned.

Tossing them to the side, he began searching for a shirt, but decided that one of his brother's shirts would be more adequate. Grabbing the boxers, he walked over to Sam's bed and searched through his bag, until he found a plain black t-shirt that would be a bit baggy on Alice, but would do the job regardless.

Alice's new wardrobe in hand, Dean walked over to the small stuffy bathroom and eased the door open. Alice was propped up on the sink, shivering in only her underwear. Sam had taken off her red-stained cotton white dress, and was now wringing out excess blood into the bathtub. The little girl turned her head slowly as Dean walked in, and stared at him with those same lifeless eyes. Dean twitched uncomfortably.

"Should we bathe her?" Sam asked, snapping Dean out of his reverie. His gaze travelled from Sam, to Alice and then to the bathtub, which was now covered with splotches of red.

"For now, we'll just wipe her down with a cloth." He replied, reaching up for a towel from the rusty towel rack that hung above the toilet. Dean turned on the tap and let the water trickle through his fingers until it became lukewarm. He pressed down on the small lever below the tap, and stared absentmindedly as the water filled the basin. _What in the hell is going on?_ He wondered, looking at Alice from the corner of his eye. She was merely inches away, her frail and blood-stained body still trembling. Whether it was due to fear or coldness, he didn't know.

While Sam was busy washing out Alice's dress in the tub, Dean soaked the face towel in the sink. After wringing out some of the water, he turned to the girl and wondered where he should start. Her face was in the most need of washing, so he decided to clean it first. Slowly, he stuck his hand out toward her face, and kept it a few centimetres away before saying, "I'm just going to wash your face now... okay?"

Alice stared at Dean as she had been from the beginning, and Dean took that as a good sign. He pressed his finger tips against her cheek to support her head, and began to gently wipe the wet cloth against her forehead, her eyelids, her nose and cheeks and finally down to her chin. All the while, she sat still, occasionally closing her eyes when the towel came close to her eyes. Dean was glad there was no struggle on her part, and for a moment, he felt a little more at ease.

A crimson coloured basin and several freshly soaked towels later, Alice had gone through a complete transformation. Her eyes shone a brilliant clear shade of blue, and though her skin still had a raw pink tint from the constant rubbing of a cheap motel towel, it looked as fragile and as clear as porcelain. Her wet hair fell in ringlets around her face, making her seem even more like an antique doll.

"She's cute." Sam mumbled, breaking the prolonged silence of the three. He and his brother were standing against the back of the cough, staring at little Alice who sat innocently on Dean's bed, in their oversized clothing.

"Mm." Dean replied, his mind miles away. _Why did dad just_ leave _her with us? Who is she? Why was she covered with blood? How old was she, anyway?_ His thoughts raced from question to question, new ones presenting themselves one after the other. Dean just wished for his dad to be home soon, and hoped that he would take over. He had been gone for days, and when he _did_ come back, he set Dean up with a babysitting job and left right away. _None of this is fair._

"What are we supposed to do now?" Sam asked, keeping his gaze on Alice. Alice, however, continued to stare at Dean. He blinked and looked over at his brother and sighed.

"I have no freakin' clue." He mumbled, while shrugging and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Alice? What do we do now? Will you talk?" Sam gulped at the slight edge in his brother's tone.

Alice stared at Dean, seemingly unaffected by his harsh words, and then lifted her hand. The boys widened their eyes with shock and held their breaths. She opened her palm so that it was facing the brothers like a high-five, then lowered her thumb.

"I'm Alice Baker, four years old. Who are you?" She said, pausing in between words as if she were reciting from a text book. Dean and Sam stood aghast, taking in the girl's small high-pitched voice for the second time this evening. Waiting for an answer, Alice cocked her head slightly to the side and stared so intensely at the two boys that she could've burned a whole straight through their skulls.

"Uh... I'm Sam." Sam said slowly, and then added quickly, "But you can call me Sammy. Oh, and I'm eight years old." He put up his hands and held down two fingers on his last hand as if to make it clearer to the girl.

Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother, and shook his head slightly. _What a dork._

"I'm Dean, Sam's brother." He said in his best gruff, manly voice. Puffing up his chest slightly, he peered over at his brother who simultaneously jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. "_Your age!" _

"Don't make me hit-" Dean started, and then faltered, looking back to Alice. He cleared his throat and faced his attention to a spot on the wall, quickly mumbling the word _twelve_. This seemed to satisfy Alice.

"Okay. Oh. Kay. Sam-ee and Dee." Alice repeated, nodding her head over and over again as if it were a way to commit names to memory.

"Uh, no, it's _Dean_, you know, with an _n_ at the end?" Dean exclaimed, while frowning and crossing his arms. Sam rolled his eyes.

The little girl shook her head. "Nah. Dee is better." Sam stifled a laugh.

"Hey, shuddup, Sam-EEE." Dean retorted, shoving his brother on the shoulder. Sam merely giggled and walked over to the bed to sit down beside Alice. She brought up her little knobby knees and hugged them tight against her chest.

"You seem better, Alice." Sam said, smiling at the little girl. Alice looked at Sam with a questioning look.

"Why?"

"Well, you're talking, for one." Dean said, still standing against the couch with his arms crossed. Alice turned her attention towards Dean and threw her hands in the air, looking quite exasperated. "Well of course I talk, dummy!"

Dean raised his eyebrow quizzically at the girl. Moments ago, she was so shocked into silence that not even an earthquake would shake her. Now, she was acting and speaking like a normal 4 year old girl. Had she completely forgotten what happened mere hours ago? Her mother _died_, after all, in what seems to have been in a very gruesome manor. Maybe her small mind just couldn't comprehend it anymore. And hell, he couldn't blame her.

Who would want to remember something as horrible as _that_?


End file.
